


tornadoes

by CapriciousCrab



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26595967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousCrab/pseuds/CapriciousCrab
Summary: Tornadoes in his dreams again. Tornadoes in his head; picking up his thoughts and throwing them around...
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 26
Kudos: 70





	tornadoes

It was never really quiet in London. Even at half-seven in the morning, Phil could hear the sound of traffic drifting up to the balcony from the street below. The crunch of tires on pavement seemed loud in the thin morning air and he jolted when a horn bleated obnoxiously loud, cursing under his breath when he slopped coffee over the side of his mug.

  
  
  
  


He wiped his hand off on his pyjama pants and lifted the mug to his lips, gulping down half the coffee in one go. It was uncomfortably hot, but he didn't mind, in fact he relished the burn as it gave him something external to focus on.

  
  
  
  


He was tired, the nightmare from last night still rattling around in his head and making his stomach tight with brewing anxiety. Tornadoes in his dreams again. Tornadoes in his head; picking up his thoughts and throwing them around, leaving them scattered and lost. Leaving him feeling scattered and lost.

  
  
  
  


He was fine. He knew he was fine. But it didn't stop those little fingers of anxiety from worming their way into his brain, traveling along paths worn smooth by the familiar tread of intrusive thoughts.

  
  
  
  


Insecurity was his oldest companion and never had it been more present than in the last few months. Dan's star was rising and sometimes Phil felt like he could burst with pride when he thought about all the things Dan had accomplished. But at the same time he sometimes felt a sting of shame at his own lack.

  
  
  
  


Phil told himself that it wasn't a competition. Dan's ambitions were loud, like the man himself. He wanted to blaze a path, to make a name for himself. He was a whirlwind of ideas and plans and projects and he thrived in the chaos.

  
  
  
  


Phil's ambitions were quiet. Simpler. He was happy with his projects and didn't feel that same burning drive that Dan did. Most of the time he was fine with that, content with who he was and how he worked. He enjoyed making his videos, and he wrote when the mood struck. He toyed with game show ideas and doodled merch concepts and accepted the occasional big-name sponsorship. 

  
  
  
  


Occasionally he wondered what people thought when they made the inevitable comparisons between them, but ultimately the opinion of strangers meant nothing to Phil. But Dan's opinion? Dan's opinion meant _everything_ . Sometimes Phil wondered what _Dan_ thought, if Dan wished that Phil were more ambitious. If Dan looked at Phil and thought him childish or embarrassing.

  
  
  


He usually dreamed of tornadoes after that.

  
  
  


He picked up his phone with shaky fingers and scrolled through his Spotify, easing back into the cushions on his chair as Sam Cooke crooned softly in his ears. He sighed and closed his eyes.

  
  
  
  


"Phil?"

  
  
  
  


He opened his eyes and there was Dan, standing in the door. He was yawning as he rubbed his eyes, his hair a rumpled nest of tangled curls as he blinked in sleepy confusion.

  
  
  
  


Phil's own personal tornado.

  
  
  
  


The sight of Dan settled him in ways that still felt like a gift, even after all these years. The noise in his head got a bit quieter and the guilt faded away as Dan squeezed onto the lounger with him, tucking himself under Phil's arm. The chair creaked ominously but held as Phil offered Dan the half-empty mug of coffee.

  
  
  
  


Dan lifted it to his mouth and sipped.

  
  
  
  


"Fucking hell, that's pure sugar," he said with a grimace.

  
  
  
  


Phil laughed quietly and took it back, draining it before leaning over to set the empty mug on the ground. Dan waited until he stilled then nestled closer, tossing his thigh over Phil's lap.

  
  
  
  


"Dan... not in front of Steve!"

  
  
  
  


Dan snorted, then yawned again.

  
  
  
  


"At this hour? Not bloody likely, bub."

  
  
  
  


Sam Cooke was still singing, and Phil couldn't help but sing along. He had a decent voice when he wasn't playing it up and he sang now for Dan, soft and sweet.

  
  
  
  


_At first I thought it was infatuation_

_But ooh, it's lasted so long_

_Now I find myself wanting_

_To marry you and take you home, woah_

  
  
  
  


Dan hummed and wrapped his arms around Phil's waist, squeezing him tight.

  
  
  
  


"Do you?" he asked softly.

  
  
  
  


Phil rolled his eyes and wrapped a curl around his finger, giving it a gentle tug. "Idiot. You know I do," he said fondly.

  
  
  
  


Dan gave his side a soft pinch, making Phil squirm.

  
  
  
  


"Well? Where's my ring then?"

  
  
  
  


"Maybe I'm waiting for you to give _me_ a ring. Maybe I want to be the househusband and you can do all the work," Phil said with a lazy wave of his hand.

  
  
  
  


And it felt ok. To make that joke and not feel the pinch of guilt he might have felt even a few months ago at not wanting to move in the same direction that Dan was heading. He felt even better when Dan squawked indignantly in his ear, making him laugh.

  
  
  
  


"You would," Dan muttered as he rolled over to drape himself over Phil's body. "Will you be waiting for me at the door with a cocktail in hand?"

  
  
  
  


"Wearing nothing but an apron and a smile," Phil said with a laugh.

  
  
  
  


Dan waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Okay, this is getting better and better."

  
  
  
  


He propped himself up and smiled before giving Phil an assessing stare, his eyes moving slowly as he took in every line and expression on Phil's face.

  
  
  
  


"You ok?" Dan asked gently.

  
  
  
  


Phil knew he needed to talk about it. Otherwise, his anxiety would eventually bubble up and spill over, causing him to either lash out or withdraw. But right now Dan's eyes were still sleepy and the sun was warm and all he really wanted to do was drift off to sleep right here.

  
  
  
  


"Yeah." He pressed a kiss to Dan's forehead and closed his eyes, tipping his face up to the sky. "I'm ok."

  
  
  
  


He tugged on Dan's arms until he was sprawled out atop Phil once more, his head tucked under Phil's chin.

  
  
  
  


"Nap with me."

  
  
  
  


"Alright, bossy," Dan yawned, closing his eyes. "God, you're so demanding."

  
  
  
  


"Hush now," Phil murmured. "Less talking, more sleeping."

  
  
  
  


They lay together on the lounger while Sam Cooke sang, both of them drowsy from the heat of the sun. Phil was seconds from sleep when Dan's whisper drifted up to his ear.

  
  
  
  


"So a ring, huh?"

  
  
  
  


Phil smiled. Yeah, everything really was ok.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> You can like/reblog [here](https://capriciouscrab.tumblr.com/post/629978340613324800/tornadoes)


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